


A Night Trapped Together

by isnt_that_wizard



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkwardness, Bev and Stan get really sick of Rich and Eddie's fighting, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Boys In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Georgie Denbrough Lives, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Movie Night, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie and Eddie deserve happiness, So Bev has a plan, and killed him, and saved Georgie, and they get it, awkwardness and fluff ensue, everyone is happy and they're all bestest friends, i honestly don't know if this is in the 90s or modern so you're pick, they don't talk about it at all but they fought Pennywise, they're like 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 19:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnt_that_wizard/pseuds/isnt_that_wizard
Summary: When the Losers Club start getting sick of Eddie and Richie's constant bickering, Beverly comes up with a plan to make them learn how to get along. It ends up working a little better than any of the Losers expected._________________Based loosely off of this news story: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2241055/Male-high-school-students-forced-hold-hands-punishment-fighting.html





	A Night Trapped Together

The other Losers really were getting sick of it. The constant bickering, the shoving and hitting, the yelling and insults. It was driving them crazy. It was, when it eventually happened, Beverly that was the one of them to finally snap. They’d all expected it to be Stan, but no. Beverly Marsh, with fury in her eyes and frustration seeping out of her, finally broke.

They were all sat in Bill’s basement for their weekly movie night. Georgie had finally gone to sleep, and Bill’s parents were upstairs doing who knows what, which left the seven Losers alone. Mike was sprawled out along the couch, his head laying against the armrest and his feet resting on Stan’s lap. Bill and Beverly had claimed all six sleeping bags to make into one giant nest in the middle of the floor, with Ben periodically throwing them a new blanket or pillow when they asked from his spot in the armchair. Then there was Richie and Eddie. Bill was pretty sure that when they had all sat down that Eddie had been in the chair and Richie was on the ground in front of it. They had set up a peaceful switch off on who got the chair every 20 minutes. It hadn’t lasted past the first switch, though, when Richie then refused to give up the comfortable spot. 

That, of course, had ended with Eddie hitting him before just climbing up, squishing himself in next to Richie in the chair that was too small for both their bodies. Richie made some wise crack as he did about how if Eddie had wanted to be close to him then he could have just asked, Eddie told him to beep beep, and that was that. Neither of them were going to move anytime soon, and it fell to the other Losers to be the miserable ones. Neither one of them were going to give up the chair, and since that fight wasn’t even worth having, they decided to fight about everything else. Who was hogging the blanket or popcorn, which nicknames Richie could and could not call Eddie, which actress was the hottest, and most recently, which movie they would be watching next.

Eddie wanted to watch Back to the Future and Richie was insisting on Stand By Me. Any thought of one of the others choosing the movie- which was Ben’s attempt to get them to shut up- went in one ear and out the other. The rest of them resigned themselves to listen to get another fight between the two. Sometimes Stan and Bill would meet eyes, exasperated looks filling both their faces, and wonder just how the hell they called these two their best friends. How the hell Richie and Eddie were friends at all. Ben and Beverly had come up with a theory as to why they fought all the goddamn time, but they only ever shared it in secret, sly glances between themselves that left Stan, Bill, and Mike puzzled as to what they were thinking. Mike just tried to accept the noise with a roll of his eyes and nothing else; as much as his friends were annoying the hell out of him, it was better than the silence of the farm.

It was when Richie began making yet another joke about Eddie’s mom that they were all sure would get Eddie off track until it was an entirely new fight, that Beverly- who until this point had been leaning her head on Bill’s shoulder and intermittently sighing- finally got fed up. She shot up from her seat on the floor, to turn to the bickering boys. 

“Okay, beep  _ fucking _ beep!” She snapped at them. When Eddie smirked and turned to Richie, no doubt to agree with her, she fixed her glare directly on him and said, “ _ Both  _ of you.”

Bill, Stan, Ben, and Mike all stared Beverly in wonderment and relief, while Eddie and Richie both sat completely slack jawed with shock. 

“You two are so damn annoying! Don’t you guys ever stop fighting? For like five minutes?”

Richie and Eddie glanced at each other, still silent for what felt like the first time in years, before both scrambling out excuses and rebuttals. Their noise was over as quickly as it had begun, however, with Bev raising a hand to silence them. Ben couldn’t help the snorting laugh he let out at how quickly the fighting boys went silent, Mike smiling along with him. God, Bev really was the mom of the group. 

“All you ever do is yell at each other or insult each other and it’s just bicker, bicker, bicker. I’m sick of it. We all are!” 

Richie looked to Bill, like he was expecting support for him and Eddie or denial of Bev’s words, but all he got was a straight face and shrug of his friend’s shoulders. 

“S-sorry, Rich. She-she’s right. It’s like you g-g-guys hate each other.”

Eddie began sputtering and growing red. “We don’t-  _ hate-  _ Shut up, Bill, we do not hate each other.”

Richie nodded in quick agreement, “Yeah, Billy Boy! You know how much I love my Eds!”

He reached up to sling an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, but was stopped when a sharp elbow jabbed him in the side, causing him to yelp and withdraw. 

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

“See!” Beverly exclaimed, “This is exactly what I mean! It hasn’t even been two minutes and you’re already being mean.”

Beverly once again seemed to shock them into silence, causing them both to look down sheepishly, growing slightly red in the cheeks. When neither of them said anything more, Bev turned away from them, but not to sit back down. She marched determinedly over to her bag and pulled something out. Because of her back facing them, none of the Losers could tell what it was she had grabbed. 

“Beverly, w-w-w-what are g-grabbing?”

She turned back to them with an overly sweet smile on her face. She placed her hands on her hips, still obstructing the object in her grip and let out a deep breath. 

“We, my friends, are solving this problem. . . tonight!” As she walked to the overcrowded armchair, she continued, “You two are going to figure out how to get along by morning or so help me god I will beat your asses into the ground. I’m putting these on you and not letting you out until you learn to fucking behave.”

Richie and Eddie immediately erupted in loud protests, attempting to scramble away from her, but being so twisted and squished into the chair left them unable to even move. Stan, the only one close enough to properly see what was happening, let out a choking noise in what seemed like shock, but he did nothing to stop it. There was a light sound of two clicks before Beverly stepped back to admire her work. The sight had Bill’s jaw dropping, Mike barking out a laugh and sitting up on the couch, and Ben groaning. 

“Bev, no fair,” Ben mumbled. “That’s cheating.” 

Beverly smirked at him, and the others were too focused on watching Eddie and Richie with all their attention to even process the words out of Ben’s mouth. The room was once again silent as Richie stared in wonderment and Eddie glared viciously at the space between them. Beverly, it seemed, had wrestled them into a pair of handcuffs, which now connected their wrists. The shiny silver metal gleamed, as if to reflect Beverly’s pride in cuffing the two fighting Losers together. Finally, Richie broke.

“What the  _ fuck,  _ Bev!? What are you thinking? This is the stupidest bullshit you have ever done, oh my god.”

“God, where the hell did you even get these? You know what, I don’t even want to know. Just get these off of me  _ now.  _ There’s no way these are sanitary. Have you ever washed them? Do you know how many diseased people could have touched these?”

“Beverly, this isn’t even funny-”

“Yeah, Bev, it really isn’t-”

“Why the hell-”

“I hate you, Beverly-”

“Get these off-”

“Take this fucking thing off-”

“ _ -now.”  _

The last word was finished in complete unison, both boys glaring deeply at their friend, who just smiled smugly as she watched. The other four boys didn’t even know what to say. This was by far the craziest thing Beverly had done, and they all shared Eddie’s question as to where the ever living fuck did she get  _ handcuffs,  _ but they were all willing to let that go for now. No one bothered to mention that wanting the cuffs off was the only thing anyone could remember Eddie and Richie agreeing on in the past three days. 

“I told you, they aren’t coming off until you guys can start getting along. Now both of you shut up so we can watch The Wizard of Oz.” 

With that finality, Beverly moved over to the TV in order to put in her own movie choice. 

“What if we have to go to the bathroom?” Richie asked.

“Then you can either go together or hold it,” Mike sighed out. Eddie looked at him in betrayal for his participation. Bill smiled to himself at the comment, settling back into his and Bev’s blanket nest with his back against the couch. His hand landed right next to Mike’s hand, who put it on his head and began absent-mindedly playing with Bill’s hair. As the movie began playing, Bev plopped back down into her spot next to Bill, sticking her tongue out at Ben, who seemed to be halfheartedly glaring at her. 

Eddie and Richie seemed to not know what to do anymore, sinking back into the chair and-  _ silently, thank god _ \- trying to find a way to sit in the chair without pulling on the metal cuff. The sound of shuffling was the only thing anyone could hear beyond the movie, besides a really quiet, “Fucking shift, Tozier, we can’t sit like this.” 

Richie, just as quietly, replied with, “Sorry, sorry. The cuffs are just really fucking uncomfortable.”

Thankfully, their grumbling eventually stopped as they finally found a position they were comfortable and settled in to watch the movie with the rest of them. When Bill and Bev glanced towards the armchair, it seemed as though Eddie had practically moved into Richie’s lap, sitting sideways with his knees thrown over Richie. Their handcuffed arms were resting against Eddie’s stomach, and their heads were practically leaning against each other. They looked, oddly enough, peaceful. Comfortable and content in their position so close to each other. Beverly looked at Bill with a smile on her face, to see if he’d seen them too, and he simply smiled back to her, though smaller and more confused than Beverly’s. At least they weren’t fighting.

It was only half way through the movie that they first one of them succumbed to the late night. Stan's head was lulled back against the couch, his neck at an angle that could not possibly be comfortable. He had his arms resting lack against Mike's legs, who was gently snoring on the other end of the couch. Bev was starfished out next to Bill, both of them half asleep, but still laughing or humming along in the right spots. Ben was dead to the world, and everyone knew he wouldn't wake until the next morning. Richie, however, was wide awake. He was entirely, acutely aware of how Eddie was pressed against him, how the other's breath was lightly hitting his collar bone, and how their pinkies were overlapping at the close proximity of their cuffed hands. He was always aware of Eddie, knew exactly where he was and what he was doing, but tonight set that awareness on fire. 

He knew that Eddie was just as awake as him, but neither of them had properly looked at each other since they'd finally settled into the chair. Eddie didn't even like this movie, Richie knew, but he was watching it with more intent and focus than he ever had before. It was silent between them, and though it wasn't uncomfortable, it was tense and awkward. All because of freaking Beverly. Nothing had ever been awkward between Richie and Eddie. Even when they fought- well, fought for real- they weren't awkward with each other. Richie hated it. It may not have seemed like it to the rest of the group, but Richie was almost as close with Eddie as he was Stanley. They were both the best of his best friends. At this point, Richie couldn’t remember the last time he did something or went somewhere without Eddie, unless it was like the bathroom or something. 

They didn’t  _ hate  _ each other. Hate was the last thing Richie thought he could ever feel for Eddie. The opposite of what he felt for Eddie. How could Bev, or any of their friends, think that he and Eddie didn’t get along? Sure, they bickered and pushed each other around, but it was all fun and games. Beverly clearly didn’t know shit. She had no clue that when Richie made jokes about Eddie’s mom he had someone else running through his head. She didn’t know that every shove or playful punch or hug that Richie gave Eddie was just an excuse to touch him. She didn’t know how much Richie’s heart raced whenever Eddie caught him staring at him for too long. She didn’t know that right now, Eddie pressed against him and practically in his lap, was killing him slowly as he desperately tried to not look at his best friend for fear of completely giving himself away.

So yeah, Beverly Marsh had no fucking clue what she was talking about.

When the movie finally ended, they two still hadn’t looked at each other. The screen turned to that blinding, bright blue colored as the credits ended rolling and the film automatically shut itself off. Richie glanced around the room and found that they were the only two still awake. Bill had thankfully given up on their blanket fort and at some point thrown two sleeping bags and pillows over towards their chair. Eddie was the first to break, moving to stand up out of the chair. Unfortunately for them both, he hadn’t quite thought it through. Richie was pulled along with him, jerking out of the chair and causing both boys to go tumbling onto the floor under his weight. 

“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled, attempting to push Richie off of him at least enough to sit up. Richie was glad that the only light in the room wasn’t enough to show his blush. They glanced around to the others to see if their loud thud had woken anyone, but other than Mike rolling over, causing Stan to fall on his side into the couch by Mike’s hip, none of them really stirred. Richie couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him. He really didn’t need Bill’s teasing or Ben’s smirking smile to make his whole situation worse. Turning towards his friend, Richie smiled sheepishly.

“So, Eddie Spaghetti. How do you want to do this?”

Eddie huffed, looking to Richie, the sleeping bags, and back again.

“We’ll just have to lie side by side on our backs.”

Richie nodded, feeling too awkward to bother making some sort of joke or even suggest something different. He reached out with his free hand to grab a sleeping bag, Eddie doing the same. In silence they managed to maneuver themselves into Eddie’s suggested position, their handcuffed arms pressed against each other and the both of them staring at the ceiling. Richie wasn’t sure how he was going to manage to get to sleep tonight, and if he did, he was incredibly grateful that he’d stopped tossing and turning in his sleep in the past few years. He heard Eddie let out an angry sounding sigh next to him after a few minutes. Richie turned his head to look at him in way of asking what the problem was. 

“There’s no way I can fall asleep on my back. Can we roll over so we’re on our stomachs instead?”

“Oh, fuck no. That is literally the most uncomfortable way to sleep, Eds. I knew you were insane, but damn.”

Eddie let out another huff, contemplating his options. Then, without notice, the smaller teen forcefully rolled himself on top of Richie.

“Woah, Eds. What the fuck are you doing?” Richie whispered, trying to ignore the spike in his heart rate. Eddie fell next to Richie, now laying on his other side so that Eddie was on his stomach, handcuffed arm thrown over Richie’s torso so that their hands were still next to each other. 

“Well if you won’t roll over, then this is the only way to get what we both want.”

Eddie’s head was practically resting on Richie’s shoulder, his breath hitting the side of Richie’s face, causing an even deeper blush to fill his cheeks. He couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him at the proximity. Shit, there was no chance of him sleeping at all if they were laying like this.

“Y-Yeah, right. O-Okay. This is. . . yeah. Okay.”

Richie could tell that Eddie was just as tense as he was. They fell back into that awful, uncomfortable silence that was driving Richie nuts. Eddie’s arm over his stomach, his body practically snuggled in next to him. . . Richie was 100% lying to himself if he said that this was something he’d never thought about, but fucking Beverly and her stupid handcuffs were ruining it! It wasn’t like they’d never cuddled before, though if anyone ever called it that they’d probably get the forces of both Eddie and Richie glaring them into oblivion, but it had become so much more awkward with the pretext that they didn’t get along. Beverly had managed to call attention to every little thing they did with each other, and Richie knew that if he was, then Eddie definitely had to be over analysing it all, too. 

Richie and Eddie didn’t often talk about the serious, feelings stuff. After a few minutes, though, of staring at the ceiling and wanting to crawl into an isolated hole and never come out, Richie knew he had to say something. If he didn’t, there was a chance that neither of them ever would. Who knows what would happen then. So Richie sucked it up, faced his fears- if he could fight a demon clown then he could fucking talk to Eddie,  _ god _ \- and nudged Eddie with the arm the other was practically on top of. 

“Hey, Eds?” he whispered, not wanting to wake the others.

“What do you want, Rich?”

“You know that I don’t, like, hate you or anything, right?”

Eddie lifted his head up, and when Richie turned to look at him, he saw that the other had a slight glare on his face, like he was confused. 

“Yeah, Richie. I know you don’t hate me. Why would you even ask that?”

“Well, Bever-”

“Bev and Bill don’t know anything,” Eddie interrupted, echoing Richie’s thoughts from earlier. 

“I know, I know, I just. . . I know I say a lot of shit, but maybe it just needs clarification that I don’t mean any of it.”

“Of course you don’t mean it, Trashmouth. We all know you don’t mean it. Besides, it’s not like I don’t give it right back to you.”

Richie nodded, trying really hard not to meet Eddie’s eyes. Their faces were so close, it would just take Richie leaning up a little bit. . .

“So you don’t, like, hate me either, right?” Richie said, sounding more insecure than he ever allowed himself to be around anybody. What if this was just a one-sided thing? Well, he was sure  _ that  _ was, but what if Eddie wasn’t just joking back? Richie knew he was annoying, that he talked way too much and his jokes always seemed to be at the worst time. It was honestly one of his worst fears that his friends would turn their backs to him, that they secretly hated him. If Eddie did, Richie thought he might just die then and there. 

“Rich, what kind of stupid fucking question is that?” Eddie asked, sounding completely in disbelief. When Richie turned to look the opposite direction to avoid Eddie’s gaze, the smaller teen said, “Hey, no. Richie, look at me. Please?”

Richie, never one to be able to resist something Eddie wanted, looked back to him. He saw what looked like shock and sadness on his best friend’s features. 

“Richard Tozier, I do not, I repeat do  _ not, _ hate you. I couldn’t even if I tried. You’re loud as fuck and make horrible jokes about my mother and you really know how to get on my fucking nerves, but I am never going to hate you. You’re the one in this group who knows exactly where to find all my different medications in my fanny packs and how to organize them the way I like. You carry my extra inhaler. Even though we both know I don’t actually need any that shit, you still do it just in case. You make stupid jokes to cheer me up when my mom is too much for me, and get me out of the house when I’m going nuts. You give better hugs than even Bev does and always know when I need one. And god Richie, I really lo-” Eddie cuts himself off, looking away and quieting his voice, “Anyway. . . I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend.”

Richie felt like he could cry. Jesus Christ, this boy laying next to him was  _ everything _ . Richie needed Eddie like he needed air and to hear all of that from him. . . he wasn’t sure he could was even awake right now. This had to be a dream. There was no way Eddie Kaspbrak was real, saying these things to him. Richie couldn’t help but focus on what Eddie almost said. It couldn’t possibly be what it thought, could it? There was no way that the boy Richie had been head over heels for since they were 12 could possibly feel the same way. His heart was viciously pounding in his chest, and Richie was positive Eddie could hear it. He felt like he was going to combust on the spot. Eddie was no longer looking at him, lips tight together and an embarrassed, shy look on his face. 

“Eddie,” Richie whispered, ignoring how his voice sounded broken and terrified. 

The other took a deep, slightly shaky breath before turning his head to look back at him. When he did, Richie just couldn’t help himself. He gave into his desires and impulses that he’d had for five years now. He leaned up. 

As their lips brushed together, just enough to be called a kiss, Eddie gasped into him. As quickly as he’d leaned in, Richie pulled away. In case he had read this wrong. In case Eddie didn’t want this. He searched Eddie’s face for a moment as the other searched his, and then their lips were suddenly connected again. This time it was in a proper kiss, one that had Richie feeling completely weak as their lips moved against each other. Eddie shifted himself onto his knees, one arm on either side as he leaned over Richie. Richie took a chance, swiping the tip of his tongue against Eddie’s bottom lip. The other boy responded, opening his mouth as well. Richie couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as he reached up with his free hand and tangled it in Eddie’s hair. 

God, this was everything he had ever dreamed. Eddie was perfect, fitting exactly right into Richie. He was warm and gentle and seemed to know exactly the right moves, even though Richie was almost positive this was Eddie’s first actual kiss. Screw breathing, Richie wanted to be making out with Eddie for the rest of his life. Eddie shifted, causing their hips to brush together just enough that heat ran through Richie’s entire body. Eddie seemed to feel it too, released a quiet moan into Richie’s mouth. It was, unfortunately, at that that Richie found it in himself to break away from the kiss. Eddie looked at him with confusion when Richie brought his hand down from his hair to push on his chest.

“We can’t- the others-” Richie managed to get out between breaths. Eddie suddenly looked alarmed and extremely embarrassed at the mention that their friends were still in the room, and laid down half on top of Richie, burying his face in his neck with a groan. Richie silently laughed, bringing his hand up to rest on Eddie’s back. 

Richie couldn’t believe that had just happened. He had kissed Eddie. Eddie had kissed  _ him! _ They had a mini make out session! Every single one of Richie’s fears, every thought that Eddie would never feel the same were suddenly banished from his head. Eddie,  _ his Eddie _ , was right here, intentionally pressed against him, lips on his collarbone, lightly pressing kisses there every few seconds. Richie shifted his hand so that his cuffed one was now holding Eddie’s and he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. Eddie twisted their fingers together, once again leaning up so he could look at Richie. He was smiling just as widely, his happy face blinding even in the darkness of the room. 

“Guess we showed Bev, huh?” Eddie whispered and Richie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Eddie immediately moved his free hand to cover Richie’s mouth, glancing around the room to see if any of the others had stirred. When he saw that no one had, Eddie gently moved his hand away. Richie stared up at him, knowing that the look on his face could only ever be classified as fond. 

“I love you, Eds,” Richie said, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear. The other boy’s smile grew seemingly impossibly wider and he leaned down, pecking Richie’s lips once, twice, three times.

“I love you, too, Trashmouth.”

  
  


🎈 🎈 🎈 🎈 🎈

  
  


When Richie and Eddie woke, it was to pillows slapping them in the face. 

“Learn your lesson, assholes?” came Bev’s voice from above them.

Richie groaned, covering his still closed eyes as he became aware of the light in the rest of the room. He felt his other wrist being slightly tugged as someone shifted next to him. When Richie braved opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was Eddie, his face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance at being woken up. At the sight, the night suddenly came flooding back into Richie’s sleep addled brain. 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

He had kissed Eddie last night. He had kissed him and Eddie had kissed him back. Richie had told Eddie that he loved him and  _ Eddie said it back. _

Holy fuck.

They had fallen asleep last laying side by side, trading kisses and giggling at each other. This had to be a dream. How the fuck had they ended up doing that? How was that real? When Richie felt another pull on his wrist as Eddie shifted again, he remembered that too.

The handcuffs. Thanks, Bev. 

Well, Richie supposed he actually should thank her now. There’s no way he would have ever actually made a move on Eddie if she hadn’t cuffed them together. Not that he’d ever tell her that. 

_ Oh, shit, _ his mind said, jumping from topic to topic at lightning speed. Bev was here, right here, standing over them. He looked up at her with a glare. 

“Fuck off,” he mumbled, too tired to make his mouth say any more than that. 

Thankfully, during the night, his and Eddie’s positions had shifted. Richie was now laying on his side, facing Eddie, with their cuffed wrists resting between them. They had moved away from holding hands, now just their pinkies overlapping. Neither of them looked like they had spent the night kissing and repeating over and over that they loved each other. They simply looked like two friends who had been forced to try to find any comfortable position while handcuffed to each other. Good. Until Richie and Eddie talked about it, the others didn’t need to know anything about what happened last night. 

Richie leaned with his free hand to grab his glasses, which he had discarded at some point during the night. Above them, Bev laughed, then hit Richie with the pillow again. 

“Get up, sleepyheads. Mike’s making pancakes.”

Richie practically shot up in the sleeping bag. Mike Hanlon made  _ the best _ pancakes anyone in the Loser’s Club had ever had. Ever. Nothing could compare to the perfect fluffiness, gorgeous golden brown, melt in your mouth, chocolate chippy goodness of Mike’s breakfast special. Richie could see Eddie perk up, too, and if the quiet sound of his stomach was anything to go by, the pancakes sounded just as good to him as the did to Richie. 

“Everyone else is upstairs except for you guys, so hurry up before we eat them all,” Bev taunted, even though they knew that Mike would make them some extra anyway. Richie watched as she walked up the stairs to where the kitchen was and then turned to Eddie.

They other still had his eyes closed, barely, and showed no sign of wanting to move. 

“Eds,” Richie said quietly. When he received no reply, Richie smiled, leaning towards Eddie’s face. “Eddie, babe, come on. Time to wake up.”

For good measure, Richie pressed a light kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and the other finally opened his eyes. 

“Richie. . .” Eddie whined. Richie knew that Eddie was the furthest thing from a morning person. He hated the thought of getting up in the morning and leaving his blanket cocoon that he never failed to make for himself. It seemed, however, that Richie had found a new tactic to get the other to respond in the mornings. When Richie had pulled away, Eddie followed, pressing their lips into a kiss.  _ Screw morning breath _ , Richie thought. He wanted to wake up like this every single day. 

When the one kiss turned into two, then three, then hands buried in hair and gripping shirts, Eddie pulled away. 

“The others will come looking for us if we don’t get up soon,” Eddie whispered, mouth still less than an inch away from Richie’s. It took everything in him for Richie to not lean the little bit forward and kiss him again, but he knew Eddie was right. He nodded, then moved away from Eddie, attempting to sit up. It was difficult, requiring Eddie to twist and maneuver so that they didn’t hurt their wrists, but they made it up. They ended up so that they were both cross-legged, facing in opposite directions, their handcuffed hands holding onto each other and resting over their touching knees. Beverly really must have flipped a switch in Richie’s brain last night, because as they sat, looking at each other fondly, Richie found himself once again bringing up the serious conversation topic. 

“So. . .”

“So?” Eddie repeated, a small smile playing on his lips.

“What are we gonna tell the others?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face, replaced with a slight frown. He stared at their joint hands, rubbing his thumb against the side of Richie’s finger. 

“I don’t know, Rich. . . What do you want to tell them? Do you even them to know at all?”

“Fuck yeah, I want them to, Eds. I finally kissed my Eddie Spaghetti! I can’t go back to pretending I don’t want to kiss your cute little face every single minute of every day!”

Richie succeeded in getting Richie’s smile back, this time even wider. 

“Okay,” Eddie said, blushing a little bit. “I don’t want to pretend either. But I also don’t want to give Beverly the satisfaction that her stupid handcuffs really did do something.”

Richie thought silently for a minute. “What if we maybe just don’t say anything? We don’t pretend like nothing happened, but we don’t admit it either. We just stay normal, but with, like, kissing or holding hands sometimes.” 

Eddie pondered his suggestion for a second before nodding. “Yeah, that would work. We both know that what Bev thought was fighting was just us being us, so who cares what she thinks. You’re still a trashmouth idiot.”

Richie grinned widely. “Yeah, and you’re mom and I-”

“Ew, Richie, that’s fucking disgusting. Shut the hell up,” Eddie said, shoving his shoulder.

And just like that, they were back to normal. No more serious talk, no more existential crisis over being in love with your best friend. They were just Richie and Eddie. They made their way to stand up and carefully, managing to not trip over each other, got up the stairs and to the kitchen. Like Richie thought, Mike saw them and pointed to a large plate of untouched pancakes that was separated from the ones the rest of the Losers were currently devouring. 

“L-l-look who fin-finally d-d-d-decided to show up,” Bill teased when he saw them, causing Eddie to flip him the bird. 

As they made their way to their pancakes, Beverly asked, “So? Did we learn our lesson last night?”

They both ignored her in favor of taking bites of their breakfast. Richie couldn’t help the moan that escaped his mouth at the delicious taste of chocolate chip pancake perfection. 

“Jeez, Mike, these are even better than sex with Eddie’s m-”

He was cut off by an angry jab into his ribs from Eddie’s elbow. “Seriously, asshole? I told you to shut up, you can _ not  _ keep making those jokes or I swear-”

“Aw, what’s wrong, Eddie Spaghetti? You jealous?”

“No, you idiot, you’re just really fucking gross.”

“You love me anyway, though,” Richie responded, smiling widely at Eddie.

“God knows why. . .” Eddie mumbled, and Richie wasn’t sure even he was meant to hear it, but he reached over and squeezed Eddie’s hand. 

When they crossed around each other, maneuvering themselves towards the rest of the group, they saw Bill for the most part ignoring them, Mike and Ben keeping focus on their breakfast, Stan rolling his eyes at them, and Beverly watching them with her lips pursed and a glare on her face. Richie attempted to ignore her as they moved to the table, sitting down at the two empty chairs between Ben and Stan. As Richie plopped himself down, making eye contact with Stan, his best friend raised an eyebrow at him. Richie immediately blushed.

Damn.

He had never been able to properly hide something from Stan. Even if he never said something out loud, he always had a feeling that Stan knew exactly what it was. Stan would never say anything about it either, but always gave these subtle hints and silent communication that he was there, that he would talk to him if Richie needed it, and that he would keep his secret to the grave if Richie wanted him to. Richie both loved and hated him for it. He could read Richie like he was one of his stupid bird books. And if the look was he being given was any indication, Stan most definitely suspected that something had shifted with him and Eddie. Richie knew that if anyone of the Losers had picked up on Richie’s crush, it had been Stan. At the sight of Richie’s blush, Stan began smiling.

Yep. He knew.

Stan knew that he loved Eddie and now he knew that Eddie knew. Stan attempted to hide his smile from the rest of the Losers, nudging Richie under the table with his foot. 

“Fuck off, Stanley,” Richie mumbled, looking pointedly at his pancakes. 

Stan listened, going back to his own breakfast, but he was still smiling. With the way they were handcuffed, Richie had to use his fork with his left hand, while Eddie had conveniently gotten the right. It made it incredibly difficult to eat, as Richie was barely coordinated with his dominant right hand, let alone his left. He fumbled with the fork, pushing pancake bits around in attempts to pick them up. At one point, in true Richie fashion, he inexplicably managed to pick up and accidentally fling a piece of his pancake right onto Eddie’s plate. It landed right next to where Eddie had set his fork down for a moment. With a plop, it landed in a pile of syrup. Eddie turned to Richie with a glare on his face. 

“Serious, dipshit? That landed, like, on my fork.”

“Aw, come on, Eddie. It’s just a sign that even my food wants to be close to you,” Richie teased, sticking his tongue out slightly. Eddie blushed, just a light dusting of pink over the top of his cheeks, and rolled his eyes. 

“Or it’s a sign that you can’t control your ridiculous noodle limbs.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I can’t use my right hand!” Richie responded exasperatedly, lifting up his right hand to where it was connected to Eddie’s left and shaking them.

“Oh, like you’re not an uncontrollable mess anyway, you fucking spaghetti noodle.”

“Guess we make a perfect match then, don’t we, Eddie Spaghetti? Besides, you weren’t exactly complaining about my noodle limbs last ni-”

“Beep beep, Rich,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. Richie knew that even if Stan was happy for them, he didn’t really want to hear all this. He was never a fan of Richie innuendo jokes. Richie obeyed Stan’s command with a smirk, nudging Eddie with his elbow. Eddie just rolled his eyes, though Richie could tell there was no heat behind it. 

“Seriously?” Beverly said from across the table. “You guys are still bickering?”

Richie couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him. He understood what Beverly had been attempting when she handcuffed them together. But seriously, what exactly was she expecting? That something that would bind them together, make it hard to move and find comfortable positions, and was just plain frustrating would make them  _ not  _ argue? Considering Beverly was one of, if not the, smartest person in the group, this hadn’t exactly been her smartest move to date. Frankly, Richie was a little bit angry with her. He could recognize that he and Eddie were annoying, that yes they were constantly bickering, but like they had said last night, Bev didn’t know shit. Eddie next to him seemed to experience the same annoyance Richie was feeling, rolling his eyes again and gripping Richie’s hand under the table.

“Beverly, no offense, but knock it off,” Eddie snapped at her. She opened her mouth wide, like she was shocked. “Your stupid handcuffs didn’t do shit, okay? Richie and I are always to tease and fight with each other. It doesn’t mean we hate each other and it doesn’t mean you need to treat us like we’re kindergartners. Rich and I are fine- better than fine- so can you just take the cuffs off? Now, please?”

The entire table stared at Eddie in shock. While he had a bit of a temper, he didn’t often snap at any of them. At least, he very rarely meant it. Richie was almost positive he’d never snapped at Bev. Richie squeezed his hand gently and Eddie turned to look at him. Richie was met with the fondest, kindest look he thinks he’s ever been given. God, he loved Eddie. Richie almost leaned in to kiss him when he was interrupted by a scrape of a chair backing up. Beverly had stood up, silently walking away from the table and back down to the basement. The table stayed silent in Beverly’s absence, all of them giving each other looks of confusion, surprise, or vague discomfort. 

Beverly came back up the stairs silently, walking to Eddie and Richie with a blank look on her face and holding out a key. Richie reached out, silently, taking it from her. Eddie didn’t quite meet her eyes as he mumbled a “thank you”. Richie handed the key off to Eddie, who could actually use his proper hand to release them. Bev stood over them as Eddie unlocked their wrists. Richie hadn’t realized the ache in his right arm until he was finally free. He shook his hand out, sighing out of relief. As much as he loved being close to Eddie every minute, he didn’t need to be trapped in a tight metal bracelet for that. They passed the cuffs and keys back to Beverly.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Bev said as she took the cuffs back. “You were right, Eddie. I know you guys don’t hate each other, it was just. . .”

“Yes, we’re annoying as fuck, we get it,” Richie interrupted with a roll of his eyes. Stan snorted next to him, whispering under his breath something about an understatement. Richie fixed him with a glare, but it only made his best friend smile. Beverly moved to sit back down, and just like that, everything was back to normal. Bill and Mike resumed their conversation about a book they’d read, Ben and Stan both reached for the syrup at the same time and began to quietly and extremely politely insist the other to be the first to use it, and Bev began shoving her mouth with food. Richie, with a smirk on his face, looked towards Eddie. 

“Finally, good sir,” he said, using the classic British voice that made Eddie roll his eyes, “I have been released from my chains. I am not free to spend my-”

“Rich, you better choose your next words really carefully or I swear to god I will never touch you again.”

Richie smiled widely, pumping his eyebrows twice. Eddie, suddenly realizing the possible innuendo of his words, blushed before putting his hand on Richie’s chest and shoving him away lightly. Richie over-dramatized his reaction, clutching his chest where Eddie had pushed him and acting wounded.

“You’ve wounded me. Betrayed. By my own lover.” 

Eddie stared at him blankly, not buying or caring about Richie’s act. Calling Eddie his lover, or his love, or his wife, or whatever other stupid joke Richie could come up with was always common place. He’d been doing it since second grade, and even though last night added a whole new layer to everything, it didn’t change them. Eddie not even reacting to it proved that to Richie, and it made him smile. Everything had changed between them and yet nothing had. 

It seemed, however, that even if the joke was something usual, that there was just enough unusual for someone else to notice. As the joke came out and was processed out loud, Beverly began choking on her drink. Everyone once again stopped what they were doing to look to her as she coughed. When she recovered, she looked frantically between Richie and Eddie. The two looked at each other, blushing deep pinks. They knew, once again, they’d been caught. 

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “Oh my fucking god!”

Stan, realizing why she had her freak-out, began jumping in his seat just a little, but his mouth was full of pancake. As he attempted to swallow it down, he started freaking out with Bev, gesturing back and forth between himself and Bev to signal to her that he knew what she was talking about. Bev caught on quickly enough and the two of them began laughing and making hand gestures in silent conversation. Bill was staring at them in confusion, Mike look completely lost, and Ben’s eyes were widening like he’d begun to get it. Richie and Eddie felt like they were shrinking in their chairs. Richie wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Both their faces were burning red. 

When Beverly and Stan finally calmed down a little, Bev turned her attention back to Richie and Eddie.

“You fucking liars! The handcuffs did too do something!”

Stan began laughing again. Mike gasped in complete realization and looked at the two of them with his mouth open. Bill, however, their poor designated “leader”, looked as confused as ever. He was looking between all of them, glaring in question at all of them. 

“W-w-what the f-fuck is hap-happening right now? What’s s-so funny?”

This just made Bev and Stan laugh harder, Mike quietly joining in. Ben had set his head down on the table, buried in his arms. He was groaning and shaking his head. Richie was avoiding looking at Eddie, fear of making their laughing and teasing worse, but their hands were holding tightly to each other under the table. Eddie shifted to tangle their fingers together, and even through the teasing, Richie could feel his heart melting. It’s steady beat had sped up and a very small smile began forming before Bev, Stan, and Mike could ruin it. 

“Bill. . .” Eddie said quietly, knowing his poor best friend was the only one who hadn’t figured out that something had happened between him and Eddie last night. Richie squeezed his hand in encouragement. 

“Richie and I, well, we kinda. . . last night we. . .”

It seemed Eddie’s lagging explanation was just enough for Bill to understand. Richie had to admit that it was kinda funny to watch Bill’s eyes go wide and filled with shock. He looked between them for a moment. 

Finally, he let out a quiet, “O-oh.”

Then a minute later, he said, “Well, I c-can’t say I’m su-s-surprised.”

Now it was Richie and Eddie’s turn to look shocked. It wasn’t surprising? It certainly was to them! Richie had known he was in love with Eddie for three years now, but to have Eddie feel the same way had been something he’d never expected. Richie had planned to spend the rest of his life alone, miserable, and pining for a short, brown-haired hypochondriac. Richie didn’t think that it was by anything short of a miracle that he had been proven wrong last night. If it weren’t for the incessant teasing and laughing of the rest of the Losers, Richie might still think that this all was a dream. 

“Damn it, Bev. I can’t believe you got them by putting  _ handcuffs _ on them,” Ben whined. “There’s no way that wasn’t cheating.”

“Doesn’t matter, Ben. I  _ win _ and you owe me twenty bucks, my friend,” Beverly smirked at him. 

Richie gaped, “Wait, did you guys put a bet on us?!” 

Mike snorted and rolled his eyes, “Of course they did. You two have have been head over heels since I met you guys. Beverly and Ben made a bet. She thought you’d get together before the summer was over, Ben said later than that.” 

Mike Hanlon, the quietest of them all, was the one who managed to hear everything, notice every small thing that the Losers did. Richie shouldn’t be surprised that he had picked up on Richie’s crush or the fact that Ben and Bev had made a bet on when they would get together. 

“No, I think Ben is right,” Stan said, looking at Bev. “Handcuffing them together should count as a violation of whatever bet you guys had going on. You knew there was a chance something like that would happen.”

“Oh, come on! I really did want them to stop fighting with each other.”

“Oh, sure,” Ben drew out, “And if they just  _ happened  _ to get into a position where they had to talk about their feelings or some shit, then well that was just a convenient coincidence.”

“It w-worked, didn’t it,” Bill contributed. “They f-finally got to-together.”

“Gee, Eddie, don’t you just love when our friends talk about us like we’re not here?” Richie snarked loudly, his face still as red as a tomato. His friends didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, simply shrugging their shoulders. Eddie, however, was smiling next to him. It made Richie think that maybe he and Eddie had been having the same thoughts over the past couple years. That maybe Eddie had been just as scared of what their friends’ reactions might be to his sexuality, to the fact that the person he had fallen for one was of them. Eddie looked happy. Richie was, too. He was so fucking happy. 

Richie took a moment to consider his options, then with only slight hesitation moved his and Eddie’s hands from below the table to sit on the space between them on the table instead. None of the Losers said anything about it, other than a quick glance of happiness towards them. They all simply continued their conversation over whether or not Beverly deserved the $20 from Ben. Richie just allowed himself to listen to it, how casual it all was. Every single person at this table was okay with it. Was comfortable and supportive of him, of Eddie. It was everything to him that they were all here and still loved him. He loved them all so much, more than words could say. Not that he’d ever tell them that. 

Richie turned to look at Eddie, who was laughing at whatever Mike’s latest comment was. He took a minute to just look at him. This boy, this beautiful boy, loved him. His smile lit up like a star, his laugh contagious, his eyes Richie’s favorite place to look, and next to him Richie’s favorite place to be. God, even his fanny packs were cute. Richie was so gone for this boy. He was sure that he always would be. Eddie turned to meet his eyes. Richie found himself immediately smiling at Eddie. 

“Why are you staring at me, Rich?”

Richie just shook his head briefly before leaning in, capturing Eddie’s lips with his own. The other responded to the kiss immediately, pressing forward into Richie and putting both his hands on either side of Richie’s face. When they pulled apart, all the Losers “aww”ed at them, but both managed to ignore it other than Eddie flipping them off. 

“I love you,” Richie whispered only loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

The other smiled and laughed. “God, Tozier, you are going to be the biggest sap, aren’t you?”

Richie laughed back, then nodded. “Every day, baby.”

Eddie leaned in for another quick kiss before saying, “Then it’s a good thing I love you, too.” 


End file.
